Something More Worthwhile
by Crazy
Summary: In the wake of Maude's visit Ezra admits there's something more worthwhile then money.


Something More Worthwhile

By

Crazy

(o0o0o0o0o)

Six minutes to five.

She was going to be late.

Muttering to herself, the young woman finished buttoning her blouse and began towel drying her hair. "The bus stop down the street is closest. But it leaves in ten minutes."

Frowning to herself, she looked towards the foggy mirror, lost in thought. "No, that won't work." There wasn't enough time to get ready and still get to the stop in time. With a sigh, she stepped from the bathroom, heading for her room, the towel once again being rubbed down her hair. "I guess there's the one in front of Charlie's grocery. Twenty minutes to get there…"

She was so caught up in the one-sided conversation with herself, she didn't realize she wasn't alone until walking halfway through the living room. Sensing motion to her right and expecting Ezra, she looked up slowly, a smile on her lips, and blinked.

"Who are you?"

Confused and not just a little startled by the prim southern voice that rent the air with its scornful tone, the 16 year-old let the smile fade into a frown as the red towel slide to the floor. O the threshold between the kitchen and the living room, stood a well dressed woman she'd never seen before.

"I asked you a question, girl! Are you always this infuriating?" Irritably, the woman pulled off a pair of gloves and stashed them in her small purse.

"It's been mentioned," Molly threw back.

"You are in need of better manners, child. That attitude won't last long now that I am here." The woman finally looked the girl directly in the eye. "Again…your name?"

Molly bristled and raised an eyebrow at the condescending tone. Cocking a hip into the couch for support, she crossed her arms and gave her best glare. "I don't have to answer that question. This isn't your house."

"Oh, good heavens, of course this isn't my house. I wouldn't be caught dead owning something so dismal. I prefer something more…." Leaving the comment open to interpretation, she waved a well manicured hand around in disdain then sniffed. "I for one can not fathom why he continues to live below his worth."

The obvious attack towards Ezra freed the girl's anger. Pushing off from her perch Molly took a menacing step forward. "That's it, time for you to leave, lady." She sneered, showing the contempt she felt.

The woman looked appalled as she brought a hand up to her neck. "What a terribly rude, uncouth, discourteous child. You're nothing more then a common brat. _He_ probably picked you off the street like a charity case. Well, keep this nefarious attitude up and it won't be long before Ezra comes to his senses and displaces you."

The words hurt as they were meant too, draining all the anger away in one fell swoop and leaving a deep depression in it's place. The teen struggled to keep that fact from the woman, but she was quickly finding it hard to hide your feelings from someone who made their living studying people for the sole purpose of manipulation.

"I see I'm right. I never did understand why that boy couldn't get such foolishness out of his head. He would take in a stray dog if he felt the need." The woman sighed heavily. "I know I taught him better. Take care of no one but yourself. Everyone else will hurt you."

Seeing the stricken look on the girl's face, the woman went on to defend herself as if it made all the sense in the world. "It's the number one rule of the game. Extend yourself to anyone else and it gives them an opening to use against you. It is just as well I found time for this little sojourn. All he needs is a reminder of who he is and this foolishness will be set straight. To think he let a little simpleton like you con him into this - it is nothing short of preposterous."

The woman paused a moment as if in thought. "Hmm, I think I am not giving him enough credit." She said finally. "Surely there must be some monetary benefit to putting up with you in this – hovel."

Molly struggled to keep up with the woman, but the blows were aimed to maim her emotions and they were well planted. Working her way through them was like walking through mud. Pull one foot out the wrong way and she was likely to lose a shoe, or in this case, a part of herself. Blinking back against the sting of frustration, she lowered her gaze, now only able to look at the woman's cream colored dress with it's fabric buttons, and silk trim. She didn't dare look into her face for fear the woman would find something else to wound her with.

And as she stood there, head down, she became aware of little things. Small things that made the woman less imposing, her façade less perfect. Like the fact her fingers never seemed to come to a complete stop, but instead moved of their own volition in a slow dance; First tugging slightly at the sleeve cuffs, then straightening the front of her button-up dress, then on to tap at her thigh before finding the cuff once again.

Mesmerized, she watched the movements, tuning out the tirade that was still resounding through the living room. There it went again. Tug, tap, and straighten. Never fast, never in the same rhythm or at the same speed, but still there. And then a new movement was added to the cycle. The woman raised her hand to pat unconsciously at her flawlessly coifed hair before tugging at her earlobe.

It was all done slowly, so that if someone were not looking for it, it might never be noticed. But it was there all the same, and Molly was lucky enough to have picked up on it. And as she watched, the teen came to the realization that as hurtful as the woman was, she was still a woman.

With that realization, the mental mud began to clear. Studying her more closely Molly came to realize she seemed familiar too. Well dressed, southern accent, spoke of looking out for number one, bitchy attitude, shark-like tendencies…. It all added up to one thing.

"You're Maude." And, as if knowing who she was dealing with gave her strength, Molly straightened her shoulders defiantly. After all, knowing your enemy was half the battle.

Green eyes narrowed slightly as their owner realized the girl wasn't as put down as she had hoped. "You say that with such contempt." Ezra's mother barked, fluttering her hand dramatically as if in shock. "I am appalled at your parent's lack of discipline. If they had been at all adept in raising you, I am sure you would at least know how to show proper respect."

Molly inwardly winced as she was reminded she didn't even know who her parents were, but outwardly she just shrugged as if it didn't matter. Pushing away the melancholy, she latched on to her newly rediscovered irritation instead. "Listen, while I am all happy to meet you," she said, barely suppressing another sneer, "I really have to get ready. Please excuse me."

She paused a moment gauging Maude's reaction. Seeing none, she shrugged and smirked. "Or not, it's up to you." And with that Molly stooped, grabbed her towel, and stalked to her room with every intention of ignoring the infuriating woman behind her.

(o0o0o0o0o)

A short time later found Molly rushing from her room while attaching an earring, her jacket held in the crook of her left elbow. Finishing with the jewelry, she looked up and smiled for the first time since meeting Maude. There was Ezra in a heated tennis match of French insults with his mother, his dark curls somewhat wind blown, his suit wrinkled from a day at his desk, his 5' 10" frame hunched over in defeat, a look of pure terror on his face.

It was good to have him home.

"Hey Ez!" She gushed in a moment of rare silence, trying valiantly to ignore the tension in the air. "I'm glad your home. Just wanted to remind you, I'm startin' that new job tonight. But since you're…"

"Excuse me dear but I thought we had this conversation earlier, concerning proper respect?" Maude broke in.

"Yeah, if you wanna call it that." Molly muttered under her breath as the older woman talked over her.

"I find it highly disrespectful that you don't call Ezra by his proper name."

Molly noticed Ezra wince, and raised an eyebrow in question just before she replied, her expressive gray eyes flashing. "And I, for one, find it _disrespectfull_ to interrupt when someone else is talking." That said, she turned back to her housemate, dismissing his mother altogether.

"As I was saying, _Ez_, since your mother's here, visiting, you don't have to worry about picking me up. I'll find my own way home."

"I will not allow you to procure a ride with some strangers." The green eyed southerner drawled irritably, running a hand through his dark brown curls.

"Now Ezra, darling, she is right. I did come all this way just to see you. It would only be fair to…"

"No mother."

"S'alright Ez. If I can't find a ride I'll give ya a call." Molly patted his shoulder affectionately, refusing to look at the woman beside him. "I'm a big girl, I'll be fine."

Ezra snapped his mouth shut on whatever retort he was about to say, and nodded once. He wasn't going to have an argument with the stubborn 16 year-old. Not when he was already in the middle of one with his mother.

Sighing in frustration he glanced at the clock, knowing she would have to leave for the bus soon if she wanted to get to work on time. "At least call to tell me who is bringing you home." He finally muttered.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine." Winking playfully, the teenager turned and headed for the door, snatching up her keys from the basket on the entry table as she went by.

"I don't suppose I could convince you to call one of the others…" He called after her, tentatively. All he got in response was a wave as the door shut behind her.

"What a trying child."

"Now Mother…."

(o0o0o0o0o)

Molly hunched her shoulders as she walked down the dark rainy streets. She was regretting her decision to not accept Ezra's plea. Who knows, maybe it would have irritated the 'matriarch' if she'd had to come along at such a late hour. The 16 year-old was sure she would have enjoyed the 'old lady's' irritation immensely. But she'd refused because he needed to be able to spend as much time as possible with the woman.

From what the dark blonde had gleaned from her time living with Ezra, he didn't get to see his mother all that much.

Still, maybe it wouldn't have been so detrimental to say yes to the ride. It really wasn't the smartest thing to walk three miles through the suburbs of Denver after midnight. Especially on a rainy November night – an extremely, unusually _wet_ November night.

As if to punctuate that thought, a lone car drove past her, splashing purposefully through the puddle by the curb. Thoroughly doused, Molly glared, watching as it drove another two blocks before turning a corner.

Shivering slightly as water droplets dripped off the tip of her nose, she cursed the bus schedule for not running this late, then went on to berate herself for her pride. Pride had made her refuse to even consider calling one of the other men on Ezra's ATF team.

While it was a good bet that any one of them would have helped her out, she hadn't felt it was her place to ask. Sure she'd spent some time with them, even relied on them from time to time, but that didn't mean it set right with her. They were Ez's friends, not hers.

She winced. That wasn't true. They were sweet and caring to a fault, treating her so kindly she could easily fool herself into believing they wanted to be her friends. Not because of Ezra, but because of her own personality. But she knew better. They lived separate lives, and if it hadn't been for the case that had brought Ezra into her life, she wouldn't have even known them. Of course if she hadn't met them she would probably be dead right now….

Frowning at the melancholy her thoughts seemed to dance with, she glanced up, looking for a distraction. There was a gas station up ahead. Perhaps it was time to swallow her pride and call for someone.

(o0o0o0o0o)

Around 2:50 AM Ezra entered the condo quietly, drained from a stressful evening with his mother. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered. He would never make that woman happy. Not in his lifetime, and probably not in any other. It was just impossible. And for her to tell him, without batting an eye, that he should kick Molly out….

Irritably, he tossed his keys into the empty basket by the door and trudged farther into the room. What he needed was a long hot shower to ease the headache that had him in a viselike grip.

Making for the stairs that lead up to his room, he only hesitated once when he saw the blinking light on his answering machine, but quickly decided it was most likely unimportant - or worse yet, it could be from his mother.

Deciding it would not be in his best interest to listen at the moment, he continued up the steps. After all, anyone important would have called his cell. Rubbing a tired hand over his forehead, he entered his room, and closed the door.

(o0o0o0o0o)

A short time after crawling into bed, a heavy pounding invaded his sleep. Groaning petulantly, Ezra rolled over, glared at the clock, and cursed. Who the hell found it necessary to bang on his door at 3:23 in the morning?

Muttering colorful phrases to himself he quickly stood, grabbed his gun and a robe and padded towards the stairs, just in time to see a dark figure burst through the door. The fatigued man's gun hand snapped up, only to lower again with a sigh of exasperation.

"What is the meaning of this Mr. Larabee?" He barked, jerking on the light-weight robe. "Do you wish to wake up Molly?"

The blond hesitated, tilting his head slightly as if surprised. "She's here?" He finally asked as he strode farther into the condo.

"Of course she's here, why wouldn't sh…" Ezra ground to a halt, his eyes narrowing as he started assimilating the situation. "Why?" Suspicious, the undercover agent watched his boss, while nearly flying down the stairs in his hast to get to Molly's room, the robe flapping cape-like behind him. "What makes you think she isn't here?"

Pulling his gaze away from the taller man, he slowly opened the bedroom door on the main floor and unconsciously held his breath. Somehow he knew Chris wasn't just pulling a prank on him and it made his stomach churn.

The room was quite clean for a teenager. The bed smartly made, the desk straightened. Frowning, Ezra flipped on the light. Surely the bed should be mussed, clothing tossed haphazardly wherever she tossed them when getting ready for bed - but there was nothing. And now that he thought about it, her keys had not been in the basket by the door when he'd returned home.

Gasping, he spun around and nearly plowed into the dark clad man who was peeking over his shoulder as if to confirm his own suspicions. "Where is she, Chris? Where is she?"

Frantic, Ezra shot around the taller man, and headed for the stairs. "She should be here. Where the hell is she?"

"Ezra!" Team Seven's leader called out, his anger rising once again. He didn't suffer hysterics well, especially from one of his own men, but he reined in his irritation, understanding that Ezra was a professional, one of the best if he were to say so, and would calm down quickly.

At least he'd better.

The blond was pleased when the undercover agent took only a few more steps towards his room, before stopping. Judging from the smaller man's posture, Larabee was sure he had started to regain control of himself once again.

So it wasn't surprising when the southerner spun around and pinned him with a guarded green gaze. "Why are you here, Mr. Larabee? What has happened to Molly?" Irritably he glanced from the basket by the front door, to the girl's room and back again. "What do you know that I do not?"

Chris nodded to himself, glad to see his friend's mind was starting to work once again. Now it was time to find out some answers. "I got a call from Molly about 12:45 but couldn't get to the phone. She left a message saying she needed a ride and couldn't get a hold of you."

Ezra winced slightly; he knew he should have insisted on showing up when she got off work at midnight. It would have been the perfect excuse to leave Maude, cutting their argument short by at least two and a half hours. With a resigned sigh, he leaned heavily against the wall bordering the staircase, and ran a hand down his face before pulling his mask back into place. "Why didn't she call me on my cell?"

Chris watched the apprehension build within the other man. He hid it well, but only those who didn't know him would miss it. "Apparently she did."

"I assure you, she-did-not." Ezra exploded, pushing off from the wall to pace. "I had the contraption with me all evening, and not once did it ring."

"Ez." Larabee watched the younger man with a practiced eye. "I tried to call you too. Your phone 's turned off."

(o0o0o0o0o)

Molly huddled into the loaned jacket as she pulled out her keys. She hoped desperately that Ezra was sleeping, after all it was almost 4:30 in the morning. Besides, she didn't feel up to questions tonight. Hands shaking slightly, she twisted the bits of metal in agitation. If it were up to her, Ez wouldn't need to know at all.

Hearing a scuff behind her, she cringed. _Fat chance._ Her present babysitters were sure to insist on waking the ATF agent. That is, if he were asleep. Somehow she didn't think she'd be so lucky.

Resigned to her fate, she picked the appropriate key and inserted it in the lock.

Turning it, she leaned into the door, beginning to push it open, just as it flew from her grasp. With a strangled cry she fell forward, into a yielding embrace and just as quickly jumped back, fear making her tremble violently.

Hyperventilating, her gray eyes darted around in panic. For a moment she was back in that room with nowhere to run. But that wasn't right. She was almost home, wasn't she? Willing herself to calm down she stared cataloguing what ever her eyes lit upon.

The first thing to register was Ezra, standing just out of arms reach, exactly where she was determined to keep him. The second thing she noticed had her panic all over again. Team Seven stood silently behind her roommate.

"Oh shit!" She breathed, and then bolted.

Or at least tried to.

"Molly!"

The police officers 'Laurel and Hardy' were there to block her path, making it easy for Ezra to snake his arms around her and pull her to him. "Molly! C'mon girl. Calm down." He spoke into her hair, trying to get through to her and failing miserably as she shrieked and hit at his chest, while twisting frantically in his grasp. He was amazed at the strength she put into each move, was even more surprised at how he nearly lost her a few times while adjusting his grip. But finally she melted into his embrace, shuddering and crying, gripping him so tightly he could barely breathe.

During the entire struggle he ignored everything around him, including the worried "Mr. Standish?" that one of the policemen questioned during the display. All that mattered at that very moment was the girl in his arms. "Lord, what happened to you?" The southerner breathed into her hair, feeling inadequate in his comfort.

Chris pulled out his wallet as he stepped around his undercover agent. Taking charge was something he could do; it was a role he was comfortable with. Besides, he had seen enough to know that the officers probably wouldn't get through to the younger man until Molly was calmed down. "Yes, he's Ezra Standish."

"Uh, Mr. Standish, can we have a talk with you?" One of the officers ventured, trying hard to ignore the glare from the blond before him.

Larabee found his empty hand clenching and unclenching spasmodically with anger. Scowling, he pinned the taller of the two policemen with his hazel eyes. "Talk with me. He's busy."

"And you are?"

"Chris Larabee with the ATF." He flipped open his wallet to show his badge.

"ATF? Why the hell were you called in?" Hardy barked harshly finding things were starting to spin out of control.

A whimper from the teen caused the black clad man to scowl deeper. "Hey Ez, why don't you take her inside. _I'll_ talk with these gentlemen." He ordered in his quiet voice.

The younger agent stiffened, torn between comforting Molly and the need to know what had happened. Fortunately his decision was made when Vin stepped up to him, and forcibly removed her arms from their current vise-like grip to guide them around his own chest. "G'on Ez. Find out what happened." He murmured over the blonde head of his charge. "We'll wait for ya inside."

Ezra reluctantly nodded and left her in the capable hands of the team's sharpshooter.

(o0o0o0o0o)

Chris ground his teeth in frustration as he waited for one of the street cops to start talking. He didn't care which. Either would do. Finding his short cache of patience used up, he opened his mouth to snap an order, when his undercover agent beat him too it.

"What the hell happened?" Straight and to the point. No large words. Easy for these two to understand. He was secretly pleased with Standish's tact. Yet - they seemed to hesitate. Damn but he hated that.

Taking a menacing step forward, Larabee instituted his glare. "He asked what happened."

One of them licked their lip nervously.

"Well, it appears the young lady was walking home _after curfew_ and she was jumped by a bunch of punks." Laurel tried to pin Ezra with a withering stare but it didn't come close to the one that he got daily from Larabee.

Chris's hands now void of his wallet, continued to clench in tandem. He was angry with himself for not being there when the phone rang, angry with Ezra for not going to pick her up, despite what she had said, angry with Molly for refusing help before it was too late, and most of all, angry that she had to go through this. Hadn't she had enough grief in her young life, without having to be put through this?

"It was like the diner all over again," interrupted a muffled voice behind them interrupting his thoughts.

Spinning around both ATF agents saw that Tanner was still trying to guide the girl back towards the condo, but she was digging her heals in, all the while, refusing to let go of her grip on him.

"Vin!" Chris growled harshly.

Knowing exactly why he was getting yelled at, the Texan shook his shaggy head. "She won't go." To demonstrate, he tried once again to pull her towards the open door without any luck.

Ignoring the two bickering men, Ezra strode up to his charge, and pulled her chin around so that he could look into her frightened gray eyes. "Did they hurt you, like at the diner, Mol?"

He winced at the pain he was bringing up but he had to know. _Were you raped again?_

After gulping some air and feeling Vin's grip tighten in comfort, she tentatively shook her head no. "They didn't get to that, but…in my head…." Her voice broke off as she shuddered violently. "I kept remembering."

Breaking away from the young man, she threw herself into Ezra, staggering him. "Gawd EZ!" The pain in her muffled voice made them all flinch. Taking that as his cue, the southerner scooped her into his arms and headed for the condo.

Over his shoulder he called back. "I'll leave the details to you Mr. Larabee, Mr. Tanner." And once he was at the door, he turned sideways to enter, catching the eyes of the two officers in the hallway. "Gentlemen."

His strangled adieu was enough to tell all who were assemble; he was struggling for control over his emotions.

(o0o0o0o0o)

It was nearly 5:30 in the morning before he got Molly to fall asleep. Stepping away from the doorway, he looked out over his living room and found four of Team Seven in various stages of sleep. Nathan and Josiah having commandeered the chairs, while Buck and JD lay slumped against each other in the middle of the couch.

Wincing as he thought of how sore they would all be when they finally woke up, he turned to the remaining two members, who had taken up vigil at his table.

"How's she doing?" Vin asked in his quiet Texan drawl.

"I expect she would be a hell of a lot better if I had ignored her request and picked her up after work as was the original plan."

"Aw, Hell Ez. You can't take the blame, no more'n the rest of us can."

"He's right." Chris added in his rough voice.

"I know," the southerner began, shaking his head in resignation, "but what do we do now?" Unconsciously he gripped the back of a chair as he swayed.

"First of all?" Another voice called out from behind him. "Sit down before you fall down."

Not feeling up to a confrontation, Ezra did as he was bid, just as Nathan pulled out his own chair and plopped down beside him.

"Can't sleep?" Vin queried knowingly.

"No, not much." Gently the black ATF agent placed a hand on the southerner's shoulder in show of support.

The undercover agent flicked an appreciative gaze towards the newcomer. "There are better accommodations upstairs if you wish to partake…"

"Naw Ez," he squeezed the shoulder once more then let his hand drop to the table. "I fig'er I won't be sleepin' much for a while." Tiredly his eyes dropped to his hands, where they stayed a few moments. "Any ideas who they might have been? Someone trying to get to us, or was it just random?" He finally asked from his bowed position.

No one answered for a while, each mulling over the possibilities. "The initial report suggests it was just random." Vin finally said, his blue eyes tracing a scar on the table top.

"Did she say anything to you, Ezra?"

Pale green eyes darted up, into the dark hazel green in Chris's own gaze. "No, she just kept remembering the diner."

Vin flinched. He still felt a little guilty over that situation. A silent hand ghosted to his shoulder, and stayed there a moment, offering him support.

"Have they caught anyone yet?" A youthful voice called from the living room.

Larabee looked up to see his youngest agent peering at them over the top of the couch while his black hair dipped messily into his eyes. "No, they scattered as soon as the police got there."

"Who made the call?"

Chris noted that question came from Buck. But it was Vin that answered.

"Don't know for sure. Someone used the payphone in the gas station."

"Fingerprints?"

"Surveillance cameras?"

Ezra and Nathan glanced at each other before returning their gazes to their leader.

"The officers weren't willing to go any further into the case with us, so I'm going to go in here in just a bit and get the report myself." Chris caught the southerner's curled lip before the snarl was hidden behind a blank façade. "We'll find out who did this." He vowed.

(o0o0o0o0o)

_Molly was shivering hard by the time she reached the gas station but she breathed a sigh of relief seeing it was still open. Pushing through the swinging door with it's warning bells, she was immediately blasted with stale air that smelled of oil and greasy chips. Wrinkling her nose she moved farther into the small station, visually sweeping the area for a pay phone._

_Once, her gaze met with the attendant but he seemed to dismiss her immediately, opting to flip through his magazine instead._

_Seeing a sign with 'payphones' painted on it, she made quick strides down one aisle, heading for the back._

_She paid no attention to the ringing of the door behind her. _

(o0o0o0o0o)

Ezra lay his head on the table, pillowing it with his arms. Gawd, he was so tired. But all he could think about was the damage done to Molly.

When he had finally gotten her to her room, Nathan had been there to help. It was the EMT that noted her clothing was still a bit damp and had suggested she put on something more comfortable, but she hadn't wanted to be left alone. Compromising, the southerner had stayed in her room as she changed. With his back turned of course.

Ezra was too much of a gentleman to watch her fully undress, but that didn't stop him from wanting to calculate every mark that had been made on her body. Retribution was going to be paid in triplicate if he got his way.

He gritted his teeth and clenched his hands as he thought of the pain she had been put through. And unfortunately the physical wasn't the worst of it. Those miscreant bastards had dredged up old haunting memories she was still trying to deal with. They made them as real as life for her, once again.

Sucking in a deep breath through his nose, he noted the smell of the cleaner he had used to wash the table. The lemony clean scent cleared his mind for a moment allowing him to just 'be.'

But the moment was shattered when the scream rent the air and suddenly he was in motion.

He didn't stop to think, he just moved, as he had so many times over the past six months whenever he heard that sound. Within seconds, he was through her door and right up to her bedside, grabbing at flailing arms.

Ezra didn't even seem aware of the audience that crowded the doorway behind him. His only thoughts were for the traumatized girl he wanted so desperately to protect. Gently, yet firmly, he pulled her to him, and rocked while murmuring softly to her.

The six men continued to watch him for a while, each suddenly aware of the extent the normally unemotional agent had changed and accepting that change with gratefulness.

One by one, they left until only Ezra and Chris remained.

The leader of Team Seven stood for several minutes watching the southerner rock the now sobbing girl, touched by his compassion, and finding it reminded him of times when his own son had woken with night terrors. The memory ached, but this…this was now, this was real. And it made one thing clear.

Whoever did this was in a heap of trouble.

(o0o0o0o0o)

There was a knock on the door, startling everyone from their brooding. Being the closest, Buck went to the door and peered through the peep hole. After a moments hesitation, he unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door. There before him stood an old woman holding up a Pie.

"Ma'am?"

"Hello dear. I just wanted to stop by and drop off a pie for Mr. Standish." She said, squinting past the tall man to see everyone who was milling around the room.

"Oh?" At a loss, Buck reached out tentatively for the offering. "That's right nice of ya ma'am, I can sure see that he gets it. No need to bother him right now."

"Is the poor boy ill again?" She asked, suddenly pinning him with her intense blue gaze.

"Ma'am?" The tall man stammered in surprise.

"I never see the seven of you together unless Mr. Standish is ill. I saw you all arrive earlier so I thought to check on his well being." She smiled paternally at the young man as she grabbed one of his large hands and gave him the pie. "I find it quite sweet how you all gather round him when he isn't feeling well. Quite like a family. Not like that woman who calls herself his mother." The small lady seemed to snarl that last word not noticing Ezra exiting the bedroom behind Buck.

"Now Ma'am," Buck worried his mustache, wondering how to put the woman in her place as nicely as possible, but she just verbally plowed over him.

"I have never seen someone so cold and calculating. I swear she shows no love for that boy, and all the while his own love for her shines from his eyes. Poor child." A movement behind Buck drew her attention and for the first time she noticed Ezra, looking worn and haggard. "Oh dear. I see he's in tough shape. _She_ probably has something to do with it. I saw them leave last evening, her belittling him all the way downstairs. If I didn't know better, I would think her part shark." Catching the southerner's gaze, she smiled kindly before returning to the man before her. "You take good care of him, you here? I expect to see him well as soon as possible."

And with that she removed her bony finger that Buck suddenly realized was pointed into his chest, and began to amble down the hallway towards the next condo, presumably her own.

Wilmington watched her go, then looked past her door to a couple of men standing at the end of the hallway. As he peered at them, one tipped a finger to an imaginary hat, and then they both walked away. He frowned thoughtfully before shaking his head.

"Buck, shut the door please." A tired southern drawl uttered from behind him, drawing him from his musings.

With a befuddled look on his face, the larger man complied, then turned back towards the rest of his team.

"Well what do you make of that?" JD asked, more to himself then anyone else.

Ezra gave him a humorless smile as he took the pie from Buck's hands, then went into the kitchen to put it away. "She was right about one thing." He mumbled.

"What's that Ez?" Vin asked.

"Mother can be cold hearted."

"Now Ezra."

"No, listen, Josiah, Mother had something to do with Molly's demise this evening…."

"What d'ya mean by _that_?"

There was a subtle hint of anger in Vin's voice that Ezra picked up on right away. "Mother got it into her pretty head that she wanted to see her 'darlin' child' this weekend. It was one of her _surprise_ trips." Ezra leaned against the bar, tapping a well manicured fingernail irritably on the surface. "She and Molly had apparently gotten into an altercation before I even walked in the door. Knowing them as I do, Mother most likely said something injurious and Miss Molly took it to heart."

Chris growled in frustration, his hazel eyes cold.

"I'm not saying Mother had something to do with the actual assault." The undercover agent continued, ignoring the angry sounds that occasionally erupted from his team leader. "I'm just thinking that Mother preyed upon Miss Molly's _sensitivities._"

"You think she hurt Molly's feelings so that she would leave your mother alone?" Nathan ventured, with a frown.

"No, I think Mother told Molly, in no uncertain terms, that she had better stop leeching off of me." The bluntness and clarity of his words seemed to stun nearly everyone.

"But…"

"Yes, I know, Mr. Dunne. Miss Molly is most assuredly _not_ leeching." Ezra began pacing the area between the dinning area and the living room, trying to burn off the irritation that raged inside him. How could she be leeching, when she _chose_ to pay for half of everything? The girl had two jobs just so that she could carry her own weight. "That is just Mother's perception. She could never see it for anything else. All because she is not willing to admit there is something more fulfilling, more worthwhile then money."

"And what's that Ez?" JD asked softly before he could stop himself. Ezra just smiled sadly at the youngest agent, before moving his gaze to take in the other men sprawled throughout his home. They would understand, he knew that and it warmed him, filled him with thankfulness. Maude may not, but _they_ would. In these men and the girl in the other room he had found that _'something'._ And it was enough. Enough to be honest with them. Enough to be honest with himself.

Taking a deep breath he plunged into new territory, speaking the word that he had never believed would truly pertain to him, yet now, unexpectedly, it did. Meeting each man's gaze his smile firmed just a little more. Yes, they would understand.

"Family. Family is worth more then anything_ I_ can think of."


End file.
